


The Sky Will Fall

by Witchy003



Series: Paint the Sky [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Creature Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is Bad at Feelings, F/M, Harry Potter Thinks Draco Malfoy is Up to Something, Healers, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Pining Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:53:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29725146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witchy003/pseuds/Witchy003
Summary: Aylia Aurora survived her seventh year by the skin of her teeth. Returning after being expelled, Aylia is completing her final term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with a goal to become a creature healer.Separated from her boyfriend Fred Weasley and her best friend George Weasley, Aylia’s tattered friendship with fellow Slytherin Draco Malfoy is the coldest it’s ever been. Draco is withdrawn, angry, and definitely up to something.Aylia tries to keep her focus on school, but can’t help her desperation to figure out what Malfoy is up to. She has a sinking suspicion that it’s laced in darkness, with loyalties to the dark side, just like his father. Aylia refuses to let anyone else she loves get hurt or die.Aylia is caught between her future and the dark side, it’s up to her which she chooses to dwell on.Set in the Half-Blood Prince. Uses both movie and novel scenes.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Paint the Sky [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191479
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. The Outcast

The only downfall to having to redo _just_ my final term was that my least favorite classes had been taken in the winter. I had Potions, Herbology, History of Magic, and Astronomy. After a few letters back and forth with Dumbledore and Hagrid this Summer, I had also been asked to help with Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creature’s classes for third year students.

It was the internship before the internship. I was beginning to wonder how I kept getting so lucky.

The first day of classes dragged by. I was sitting in Astronomy, staring at the clock, counting down the minutes until I could see Lee and we could hang out and talk. Life would feel like normal then, I’d expect. Sitting in classes with students I barely knew, their eyes scanning me up at down with either judgment or appreciation- given I had been expelled the year prior for blowing up the Headmaster’s office with her inside, was beginning to make me feel like a leper. 

I didn’t like it. I felt old, odd, and out of place. I missed being surrounded by friends, passing notes and muttering inside jokes to each other. It was different, having nobody. I wasn’t quite used to how that felt.

After class I sulked toward the Gryffindor common room, ready to plant myself on the bench beside the portrait until Lee came by- likely twenty minutes late as usual. But it was Ginny who found me first.

“Hey,” she smiled, plopping herself down on the bench next to me. She let out a groan and dropped her books beside her.

I raised an eyebrow, “That’s a heavy work load.”

She sighed and nodded, turning back to me with that friendly smile now missing, “Did you hear then? About the train? Surely, Ron’s told you.”

I shook my head. I hadn’t seen Ron much at all in these two days, and I hadn’t even caught a glimpse of Harry or Hermione yet.

Ginny’s eyes darkened, “Malfoy broke his bloody nose.”

My eyebrows shot upward, “He _what?”_

Ginny nodded, her jaw tightening. She leaned back and crossed her arms. “I know you two aren’t mates or anything, but you are in the same house. Rip him a new one for me, yeah? Arrogant twat immobilizes somebody just to hit them. Coward.”

I let out a huff of disbelief, but I wasn’t all that surprised. Draco and I had a complicated relationship. We had hated each other for years, and then we had started to get a long. I take no pride in the fact that getting along had quickly led to snogging a couple of times, but we promptly went back to hating each other again just as quickly.

After all of that, however, I had deduced the same thing that Ginny had, the same thing I had known since I met him: Draco was a coward.

“I think Harry must have been spying on him. Hermione wont tell me much, but it seems they’re rather suspicious of Malfoy after… well, you know. Obviously he had to stun Harry to fight him. He’d stand no chance against him otherwise.”

There was something else though, something worse than him hitting a defenseless Harry. Draco’s father had been part of the group who had killed Sirius in the Ministry of Magic last term. Draco was now intertwined in that fact, guilty by his father’s actions. He might have been the one to help Lee and I come back to school, but whatever respect he had earned from that had been obliterated by his involvement in what happened.

Immobilizing Harry and breaking his nose was just the icing on top of the cake.

“I best get inside. Are you coming in?” Ginny asked, standing as she collected her books.

I shook my head, “Just waiting on Lee.”

“Right,” she nodded, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Let’s do something soon, yeah? Hogsmeade maybe?”

“Absolutely. See you, Gin.”

She stepped through the portrait just as Lee sauntered around the corner and into the hallway. His bag was across his shoulders, his hair tucked back again, and he was twirling his wand in his fingers as he carefully examined a small box in his hands.

He looked up and saw me waiting.

“Snatched this off a second year,” he tossed the box to me. “Did you know they were making those? It was too good to let a kid keep.”

I glanced at the black box, which then popped open to reveal a cartoon-like Umbridge. She hobbled around on a spring like a Jack in the Box, but with each bob of movement, she’d let out her throat clearing tick.

I cringed, instantly feeling a shiver at the memory of the sound, but I had to admire the genius. I hadn’t seen these at the shop before I left, but I could imagine that they were already a hit.

“Must be new,” I said, staring at it carefully. The sight of her face made my insides burn.

Lee snatched it back, slamming the top closed again to get rid of that _sound_ she was making. “Well, it’s genius. Reckon they’ll be sold out by the evening.”

He took a seat next to me, burying the Umbridge in the Box into his robes.

“Ginny just told me something about Malfoy,” I said quietly.

Lee shut his eyes, leaning against the wall. “I heard today. I saw Ron in the common room and he told me all about it. What a _bellend._ Everyone knows your daddy is a dark lord worshipping git, wouldn’t you want to lay low?”

“You’d think,” I scoffed.

Though I wasn’t shocked by his actions, I was quite surprised at Draco’s boldness. He had seemed ready to change last year, but perhaps he was only putting on that act toward me. I had left school thinking that despite being molded and bullied by his father his whole life, stacked with morals that were despicable and spineless, he had _some_ ounce of good in him.

How could one guy risk his neck to get Lee and I back into Hogwarts, but break Potter’s nose on the train just months later?

He was exhausting.

“Reckon you’ll ask him why decided to be a martyr for us?” Lee asked, looking over at me lazily.

I scrunched up my nose, shaking my head. “I don’t think I’ll bother.”

His answer wouldn’t matter. Draco’s good does not outweigh his bad. It was the opposite. It was exhausting to try and have a relationship, no matter how little, with somebody that gave so little and took so much.

Plus, helping us was the least that he could have done after what his father did to Harry.

_And then he breaks Harry’s nose on top of it all._

“I imagine daddy death eater doesn’t know about that part,” Lee said. “You aren’t pure-blood enough for him to care about saving _your_ education.”

I nodded, smiling tightly.

It was exactly what I had been thinking, and even saying to Draco’s face, since we had started our little friendship all of those months ago. We were from two different worlds. My family and friends would treat Draco like any other, while his would treat me like an abomination. To put it simply, we were like fire and gasoline.

“I just don’t understand what Potter could have done to get a kick to the face.”

Lee glanced at me, “Does Malfoy ever need a reason? Saw an opportunity, probably.”

“Horrid.”

“Well, that _is_ his middle name.”

Lee and I parted after about an hour. I was set on getting ahead of my readings this year, and completing enough of my assignments ahead of time that I could spend the majority of my time at Hagrid’s hut with the creatures.

Lee, on the other hand, seemed keen on catching up on his sleep. I had been telling him about what I had read on Salvatore Barslatto and his work, and perhaps the story was quite boring, but he had shut his eyes and nearly started to drool onto the chest of his robes.

I pushed open the door to the Slytherin common room and it was packed to the brim full of students. Pansy Parkinson was sitting at the table closest to the door with Blaise. They both stared at me in disapproving shock as I walked in.

Theo’s head turned next, and then Crabbe’s, and then Goyle’s.

Before a hush could sweep over the common room, I rolled my eyes and yanked the door open again. I didn’t feel like being the eighth year gawking exhibit. It was unheard of to have someone repeat their final year, and it was especially rare to have someone injure a professor-a _Headmaster_ , and walk back in the next year unscathed.

It didn’t escape me that most of those students in my house had been members of her little group of narcs- the Inquisitor Squad. I’m sure they had grown to believe that she was an asset to the school, and were quite furious to learn that one of their own had made been the reason she was sent to the hospital wing, disbanding their little group shortly after.

I headed back up the dungeon stairs. These moments were when I’d typically seek out my friends, feeling isolated in my own house common room. I knew where I’d be accepted, regardless of the colors of the crest on my robes, but Lee was surely asleep by now and the rest of my friends were tucked away in a shop in Diagon Alley.

I sulked into the library, grateful that it was empty so early in the term. I opened my Astronomy textbook and began to read the five chapters that were due by next week.

_Freddie,_

_I’m feeling awfully out of place in Slytherin this year._

_I always understood why I was placed in this house, but I can’t seem to see myself in any of the faces in my common room any longer. I feel like more of an outcast than I thought I would._

_Reckon I could ask Dumbledore to live with House Elves?_

_It’s only been two days… send me enough Wiz Bangs to get me out of here._

_P.S. Malfoy stunned Harry on the train and broke his nose. I’m unsure why. I’ll try to get more information from Hermione._

_Yours always,_

_Aylia._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly slow start for the first couple of chapters. I hope you still enjoy!


	2. Year Eight

My feet stepped onto Hogwarts soil for the first time in just a few months, but it had felt like the first time all together. That connection through the soil of the grounds, which pushed a flutter of electricity through the soles of my feet and to the rest of my body-- it was the most powerful it had ever felt. It felt serendipitous that I was back here now after being expelled just a few short months ago, and that I was about to finish my schooling and become that witch I was destined to be.

Lee and I watched the students rush toward the castle, ready to enjoy a mighty feast upon their arrival. It hadn’t been discussed on the train, but we had both decided as we watched the crowd of students rush toward the Great Hall together, that we wouldn’t be joining the feast. We weren’t like any of the other students anymore. We had no group of friends, no other people in ‘eighth’ year alongside of us, we were outsiders now.

Plus, we had somewhere else we had to be.

With my blankets draped over my arms and my wand tucked into the pocket of my robes, Lee and I headed away from the castle entrance to the grounds beside it. There was our spot, perched on top of the hill overseeing the Forbidden Forest, where us and the twins had spent so much of our time that our arse prints were likely permanently indented on the grass.

It was dark, but the light in Hagrid’s Hut was glowing, which gave us a enough light to feel like we were sat in front of a warm fireplace.

“Lumos,” I said softly as I rung out the blanket with my free hand, spreading it atop of the grass.

Lee followed suit, and he pulled out the snacks that we had purchased off of the trolley on the train from his robes. He laid them in a pile on the blankets as we sat.

It would not have been right to join the feast tonight. Our ‘final’ feast was last year, on this date, in our seventh year. We had been surrounded by friends, optimistic for our final year that was just ahead of us. Of course, it hadn’t been that fantastic of a year at all. Umbridge had infiltrated the school and began to control our education in a way that was less than satisfactory.

I glanced at my hand, where her words still maimed my skin.

This wasn’t our last first day. This was our chance to right Umbridge’s wrong. Expelled near end of term, Umbridge had made sure to erase all progress from our academic reports. Although it was not ideal to be back and repeating my final term of seventh year, I had goals that I had to meet and this was the necessary means to reach them.

Lee leaned forward, handing me a Pumpkin Pasty. He unwrapped his own, leaning back on his arm as he took a big bite, looking out to the Forbidden Forest.

This spot on the chilly grass had been our comfort place throughout our friendship. It was never just the two of us, of course, Fred and George usually flanked us, but they were off running their own shop now. They were done with Hogwarts, but had left the two of us to finish what we had started all of those years ago when we were first sorted into our houses: _graduate._

I unwrapped my pasty, taking a big and delicious bite. We had deliberately not eaten on the train so we could have our first feast of the year together- the last one for certain this time. The two odd eighth years of Hogwarts, best friends since they were just kids, having their welcome feast of trolley snacks with only each other, at _their_ house table- this spot in the grass.

“Think anyone else will claim this spot as their own in years to come?” Lee asked, taking another bite of his pastry.

I hoped not. Nobody else had seemed to see the appeal throughout our seven years of school, I couldn’t see anyone rushing to replace us now. Even Lee and the twins, who did love this place now, had been forced to sit out here against their will by me, who had been obsessed with the canvas-like sky as it was painted by the sunsets in the Fall.

“Doubtful,” I replied.

Even if they did, our memories were permanently laced into the soil of this spot. The laughter, the plotting, the bonding, it had all been done right here. I thought about Fred and I, laid out on blankets under the stars last year after we had finally found our way to each other, where he had told me he loved me for the first time in front of an array of miniature Wiz Bangs. It was where we had our first, but actually second, kiss.

This spot was ours, no matter how many more students decided to lay their roots here too in the years to come.

“Shame,” Lee said with a mouthful. “It is quite pretty.”

I smiled, nodding quietly in agreement.

It was odd, being here without the twins. Our group felt off-balance, like something was missing. We had done school without them for a bit when they had left after their explosive exit last year, but even then- it had only been days without them.

It was only going to be one term. One term lacking that laughter and luster that we were used to would be doable. We could manage, Lee and I. We were back here to focus on school anyway.

We ate and talked, listening to the sounds of the Hogwarts grounds and their magic. Sometimes, the laughter and chatter from the students would drift outside and hit our ears. If you strained enough, you could hear the gentle sounds of the harp inside the Great Hall. This was the _best_ eighth-first feast I could have imagined.

It was getting chilly by the time a big, broad, and half-drunk man sauntered out of the castle. He was whistling to himself giddily, a bounce in his step that was motivated by goblets full of wine that accompanied his dinner.

Lee and I smiled, watching him pass us without realizing we were sitting just feet away. Hagrid had been the second reason that we hadn’t joined the feast. We had wanted to get him alone before seeing him in the Great Hall, where we wouldn’t be able to have the reunion that we wanted. We owed him a lot for helping us get back into school, but more personally, I just missed him.

We waited until he was inside, laughing quietly to ourselves as he stumbled over the words of his song, before we collected our things and raced down to his hut.

He was still whistling as I knocked on the door.

The door swung open, and Hagrid stared down at us with rosy cheeks. Despite being someone who loathed showing emotion in front of others, I could feel the tears prickling behind my eyes as his face lit up in absolute joy.

“Aylia!”

I was pulled into his big belly immediately. His large hands pressed me to him so tightly that I was sure my makeup would leave a giant streak across his tan overcoat. I stared at Lee as my cheek was smushed against him, trying to let out the laugh that wanted to be freed from my throat.

“Lee, how are ‘ya?” Hagrid let me go, and I sucked in a deep breath, flattening my curls back down onto my head.

He shook Lee’s hand in his enormous one.

As we entered the hut and shut the door behind us, I bent down to give Fang his obligatory pets. Hagrid seemed astonished that the pair of us were in front of him, even though he’d been the first person to plea to Dumbledore to let us back. He stared down at us in amazement, his jaw dropped, as though if he blinked we’d be gone.

“I missed ‘yas at the feast,” he said finally, hiccupping a little. “I stared at tha’ Slytherin table, desperate to see ‘yer mop o’ curly hair, I tell ya. I thought you had a change of heart.”

I stared at him incredulously.

“A change of heart? Really, professor? And miss my last term with you?”

Hagrid flushed a bit, wiping his hands on his jacket. He looked away bashfully.

“Oh, blimey. I know. I was buggin’ Dumbledore and he told me you wouldn’t miss it,” Hagrid sauntered toward his kitchen, putting on a kettle of tea as he usually did when we visited him. “I made sure the fairies were ready for ‘ya. I also got in touch with Salvatore Barslatto, a creature healer who specializes in fairy work. He’d like to talk to ‘ye before graduation.”

I stared at the back of his head, my eyes wide.

Lee grinned, shoving me playfully with excitement.

Yes, talking to a creature healer about a potential internship _before_ I even graduate was a mighty big deal- _especially_ if this healer’s expertise lied with fairies. That was a bonus I was not important enough to receive at almost eighteen years old.

“If yer not interested, I could write him-,” Hagrid began, his back still turned as he placed kettle on the stove. He had mistaken my silence as hesitation.

“-No! No, I’m interested!” I shouted, nearly flinging myself across the table as though he could end my opportunity that quickly. “I’m beyond interested. Thank you, Hagrid.”

He glanced over his shoulder and smiled warmly. “Of course. Yer my best student. He’d be lucky to have ‘ye.”

Lee and I sat with Hagrid until curfew was mere minutes away. We thanked him about one hundred times for helping us get back into Hogwarts. We knew the pull he had managed to give us with Dumbledore.

To ensure he understood our gratitude, we also gifted him with a card signed by us both, that had an enchanted picture of him with the four of us in our fourth year inside of it. We were laughing with our arms around each other, and Hagrid was pretending to drop gollyworms on George’s head.

He unwrapped his carved, muggle, garden ornament with tears in his eyes. It was, of course, in the shape of a fairy. I had picked it up on one of my visits home to see my family with Fred.

Lee had painted it and charmed it to make it flutter and drop glitter of different colors every hour- like fairy dust. It would be a reminder to Hagrid as he worked on the Hogwarts grounds that we loved him, and appreciated every single thing he’s done to get us where we were. That list was long, especially for me.

We left Hagrid’s hut with a warmth in our belly’s. It was as though we had been at the feast after all, eating the delicate and luxurious foods until we were sick. That was the thing about love, it tended to make everything feel a bit more spectacular, even conversations around a table with a cup of tea.

Lee and I separated, heading to our respective common rooms. I entered the dungeons with a weary step, knowing that I’d be bunked with seventh year girls- who were one year younger than myself, all of whom I had never really been close with throughout my years at Hogwarts.

I was grateful that most were asleep as I climbed into my bed, the same bed I had slept in last year. Except this time, Flo and Beatrice weren’t here to talk to in the dark. They weren’t here to laugh with, or to confide it. It was just me, so far away from everyone I cared about.

I scrawled my first letter to Fred, who was likely in his flat with a cup of Firewhiskey chatting to his brother at this very moment. I wondered if he was writing to me, too, and if he’d find a way to get it to me by the time I dropped this letter off at the owlery in the morning.

_Fred,_

_Well, first day down._

_Hogwarts lacks a bit of magic without you. It’s odd, being here without you._

_Lee and I skipped the feast to go to our spot. We spent the evening with Hagrid. He loved his gift. Hagrid is working on getting me an internship with Salvatore Barlsotto. Look him up. That is a huge deal!_

_Expect loads of letters from me, even once studies pick up. I am already feeling that boredom that comes from living a life without you in it._

_Pretty sure I love you._

_Positive that I miss you._

_Yours,_

_Aylia._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> Let me know your thoughts on the first chapter of the sequel!!
> 
> Thank you for your love and kudos already- and you haven't even read anything!


	3. The Brief Encounter

I woke up early the next morning with first-day excitement. It wasn’t my first day of classes, but it _was_ my first day as an assistant professor. This morning would be my first day helping Hagrid teach his third-year class. Once I got into the rhythm and understood my responsibilities, I’m sure I’d allow myself to sleep until breakfast, but my nerves had me up and ready to work at the break of dawn.

I pushed my curls out of my face as I thrust open the common room door. The castle was quiet.

I climbed the stairs from the dungeons, which were usually quite silent themselves, but the sounds of the rest of the Hogwarts castle seemed eerily missing as well. I didn’t think I’d ever been up this early in the seven years I’d attended school. I’d never experienced the castle so still.

The noises of a few moving bodies could be heard somewhere near, in a different corridor, maybe house-elves preparing for breakfast in the kitchens or professors getting a start to their day in peace.

I yawned, shuffling my tattered bag onto my shoulder. I turned down the east corridor, the one closest to the hill, to exit the school.

Steel gray eyes found mine from ten feet away. Draco slowed his stride for a moment as he walked toward me, fully dressed as though he had been out at the shops all day. He spun a green apple in his fingers as he stopped, and I noticed for the first time how his face looked strikingly pale against the black garments on his back.

I hadn’t seen him since the day I was expelled.

Before Draco could allow me to catch his hesitance, he picked up his pace and strived toward me with purpose. Both of us averted our eyes ahead as we stormed passed each other. I held my breath, not wanting him to feel any ounce of me against his skin.

A fury swept over me as my hair was blown back by the force of his walk. This man’s _father_ had been someone responsible for the death of Sirius. He had held my face in his hands with such gentleness, likely knowing his father was about to try and assault _my_ friends for the benefit of the Dark Lord.

I shut my eyes, forcing my legs to keep heading in the direction that led outside of the castle. Every instinct in my being wanted to turn around and scream at him, hex him maybe, make him feel the pain that his family had inflicted against people I loved.

I had not been expecting this rage toward him. I was not dumb enough to think he had any part of it- he was just a kid, and Voldemort would never seek out help of a mere child when he had capable adults to do his bidding, but he could have _known._

What if he could have told me and I could have stopped it.

I swallowed, hard, and stormed outside toward Hagrid’s hut. A sense of relief washed through me as soon as I saw the top perch of hill, with the forest in the distance, and my favorite professor out around his home tending to the weeds.

_He got you back here. Hold onto that instead of your anger. You cannot get expelled again._

“Professor Aurora!” Hagrid bellowed as I walked through the grass to him and dropped my bag on the steps of his hut.

I couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. _Professor_ Aurora did sound quite nice.

“Look what I’ve got here!” Hagrid said loudly, holding out his arms. “Not for the third-years o’ course, but for you.”

I peered around his big frame and saw three, very familiar, half-cut tree trunks. I could tell by the markings on the stumps that they were the very same as the ones I had tended to last year. I broke into a smile and rushed toward them, desperate to wrap my arms around them and confess how much I missed them after all of this time.

I didn’t, of course. You needed to earn a fairy’s trust, they were very skeptical and nervous, and rushing up on them like a banshee would likely leave them afraid of me for life. That was _not_ my goal within my final term. 

“Are they all still here?” I whispered, tracings the lines of the trunk with my fingers.

‘’O course!” Hagrid said, slapping his hand gently on top of the smallest one. “Even that little orange haired ‘lass.”

Fred’s necklace felt heavy again my chest then as I thought about my favorite orange-haired fairy who had gifted me with my very first dose of fairy dust- a symbol that meant that she trusted me and was thanking me for my care. Her glitter hung next to my heart, collected by Fred and made into a pendant that I could wear forever.

I could not wait to gain her trust back and see her beautiful wings again.

“Can I keep our Sunday routine? I’ll take care of them for you?” I asked, blinking up at him. My eyes were wide and desperate, like a child pleading for a sweet.

Hagrid nodded, “If you want to, of course. If you get too busy with your school, ‘ye gotta focus on that though. Deal?”

I nodded, leaning down to peer into the openings in the middle trunk, the one with the blunt gash of an axe on the back, where I knew the orange-haired fairy lived.

“Deal.”

Hagrid and I went over this week’s lesson plan for the third-years. I was incredibly pleased to learn that their first lesson would be focused on Nifflers because they were one of my favorite magical creatures, and students often found them adorable enough to become excited about the class.

As Hagrid introduced me to Squirt, a playful little guy, I felt that familiar ease of being exactly where I was supposed to be.

“As ‘ye aced your paper about Nifflers yerself,” Hagrid said, petting Squirt roughly on the head. “I was thinkin’ that you could start the lesson. I know, I know, I’m throwing ‘ya to the waters on yer first day, but it’s the best way to learn.”

Talking to crowds wasn’t something I was horrible at, I could do it when I had to, but I felt little nerves at the idea of introducing the Niffler to a group of thirteen year olds. I could recite their characteristics from memory. They were similar to rodents, they had a long snout and a typically dark coat. They resided in burrows deep into the earth and they were exceedingly exceptional as locating treasures. Children generally fell in love with them quite quickly. I had.

I smiled at Squirt, who rolled onto his back, his eyes locking on to the necklace that had slipped out from the collar of my jumper. His eyes widened at the golden chain and orange glitter swirling around the medallion.

“Not for you, Squirt,” I said softly, scratching his belly as I tucked my necklace away from his sight. “But I _will_ give you all the scratches your desire.”

Hagrid let out a rumble of a laugh, shaking his head as Squirt’s eyes stared at my neck, his snout now desperately sniffing in my direction.

“Little bugger, he is,” Hagrid chuckled. He reached into his pocket and handed Squirt a leaf of lettuce, which he snatched immediately and started munching on- not bothering to move from his back. His eyes left my neck, closing in bliss as he chewed the leaf noisily. “Good little hunter, he is though- best I’ve had, I reckon.”

We watched Squirt, and fed him only enough to keep him happy until the students arrived.

Hagrid would teach them what Niffler’s ate and how to feed them to keep them happy. He’d go over how to approach and stroke them, and how to handle them if they accidently wound up inside a building or a home, where they could wreak absolute havoc searching for treasures.

I’d relay the basics and help any nervous students, or students who had any questions amidst the lesson.

“One more task fer ya,” Hagrid said, as the third years started heading down the hill toward us. He placed Squirt back in his cozy crate until he was ready to interact with them. Hagrid’s dark eyes watched me sideways, sad. “Keep an eye out for any student’s like you. I’d like ta keep this tradition going, teachin’ a kid who falls in love with the subject. Makes it worth it, ye understand?”

I smiled at him, placing a gentle hand his arm as his eyes grew teary. I wanted that for him too.

“I absolutely understand, Hagrid.”

~*~

The class went by better than I had expected. The student’s were extremely enamored with Squirt as I taught them about Nifflers, and they seemed even more eager when they learned how good they were at discovering bright and shiny treasures. It was everyone’s first thought, when hearing that fact, a Niffler would make a good pet to get rich off of.

Not quite.

Keeping a Niffler was hard work, and stopping them from their hunting instinct was next to impossible. Owning a Niffler, if not ready to deal with the responsibility seriously, usually did a lot more harm to the owner than it benefitted them.

I tried to drill that into their heads as their wide eyes and greedy hands pushed forward. I hoped, for a moment, that Squirt would swindle one of them and slide a ring, or a bracelet, right off of their bodies without them noticing until it was in his tiny hands.

He did, of course. Squirt did that to about five of them, his eyes closing in bliss each time the class rung out in laughter. Panicked students would rush to get their jewelry back, but Squirt was faster and much more resourceful.

Hagrid would have to step in and retrieve their jewelry for them, and it was easy to see their hesitancy about wanting ten Nifflers of their own grow by the end of the hour.

I spotted a girl with strawberry blonde hair within the first twenty minutes, her face was kissed with a permanent flush. She curiously peered around the rest of the class- not wanting to push forward through the group like they had. Her big, icy blue eyes were round and mesmerized as she watched Squirt snatch a watch off of a dark-haired boy.

I watched carefully as she broke into a grin, covering her mouth to giggle into her hands, barely even blinking in fear of missing some of Squirt’s performance.

I smiled lightly, glancing back to the Niffler as the same boy passed him a handful of weeds to eat.

I think I found the new me.

After class, I figured out the Ravenclaw girl’s name. She was Dorothy Waxon, a third-year half-blood who was obsessed with Divination and Astronomy. There was nothing about her that I gathered through her previous reports or word from other students to suggest that she would love Care of Magical Creatures in the same way I had, but I knew that look she had plastered on her face.

She had been in awe of Squirt, desperate to learn more. I was going to have to force her to the front of the class in the next lesson and see how she did in the front row.

I met with Lee for dinner, and he filled me in on his classes. He’d already tackled a good chunk of his first paper, and would likely be done by next week. He had also been asked by McGonagall to return to his post as the Quidditch announcer, and that seemed to make him incredibly happy. He still looked tired, but I imagined I did as well. The past year had really taken a toll on us.

As usual, the conversation slid to the abandoned shops in Diagon Alley, and the murmuring about who was involved with what side of this impending war. I felt a coldness seep through me as his dark eyes skimmed over the Slytherin table, taking in the children that came from a long line of devoted death eaters. That was the table where _I_ belonged.

I wondered if he was looking for Draco, too. It was hard not to focus on him, knowing what we knew. I recalled the rage that I felt as he passed me in the hallway, gaunt and thin, eyes unable to meet my own for very long at all.

I wished I understood Draco enough to know if that expression that he was wearing was a look of guilt, or a look of panic- desperate to avoid a confrontation about his loyalties. I would surely be the one to give it to him.

Lee and I headed to the owlery after dinner to send our mail. I had a feeling the twins were getting ample letters from the pair of us already, only a few days into this term. It was hard not to want to include them in everything we did- they had been a part of all of those little moments for so long. They were going to have stacks and stacks of mail by Christmas.

I handed my letters, one to Fred, one to George, and one to my family, to one of the school’s owls. The owl took off immediately into the evening sky, another following it closely with Lee’s letters tied to its leg.

We watched them fly until they were mere dots in the sky, disappearing into the fall sunset.

_Fred,_

_I taught my first class today. It was quite fun. I didn’t think I’d enjoy seeing student’s light up with excitement the way I had in third year in my first Care of Magical Creature’s class, but it brought me the utmost pleasure._

_We were working with Nifflers with the third-years, the one Hagrid has is called Squirt. Hagrid also told me that I’d be working with my fairies again this year, and I can’t tell you how excited and thrilled I am to spend another term with them._

_How is the shop? Is it still busy without the back to school rush? How are your parents?_

_Please write me soon, I’m going mad without you. I’m counting down the seconds until Sunday mail._

_Yours,_

_Aylia._


	4. The Present

The rest of the week went by at a snail’s pace. It was surprisingly not as easy as I believed it would be re-taking courses that I’d taken only a few months ago. The workload seemed heavier, and the time seemed to pass much slower, if that were at all possible.

Lee and I spent our free time focusing on school, but now that he had scored his position back as Quidditch announcer, he was also spending quite some time on the pitch during try-outs. He was attempting to learn the competitors names and positions in advance. He seemed keen that he could tell at try-outs who was going to make the team and who wasn’t.

I sat with him for one of the Gryffindor try-outs, away from the others on the pitch. Ron was trying out this year and did quite well as Keeper. Cormac, who I couldn’t quite stand, was also remarkably talented in the same position.

Lee glanced at me as I nervously watched the pair duke it out, and assured me Ron would make the team.

I spent Friday evening in the library, and woke early on Saturday to take a stroll down to Hagrid’s Hut before breakfast. I rummaged around the Forbidden Forest’s entrance and grabbed some weeds and flowers to offer the fairies, and I sat in front of their trunks until around seven-thirty, leaving their gifts on the tops of their logs. It was just a start, but I was desperate to win back their trust.

I had breakfast with Lee, and then we both headed back up to the library to work on our readings. The readings were a bit easier, considering we had read a majority of these chapters before, but they felt incredibly more tedious. We spent most of the time chatting and making quick notes to save for examinations and future papers.

It was as I sat at one of the tables across from him, in the middle of the library, that I spotted a strawberry blonde third-year checking out a stack of books with Madam Pince. The stack was about seven books high, nearly teetering over as Dorothy Waxon scurried out of the library blinded by the tower of texts in her arms.

“Oi, that’s the girl,” I muttered, pointing to her as she disappeared out of the doors.

Lee glanced up from his text, following my eyes. He only caught the ends of her straight hair as they spun around the corner.

“Who?” He asked, confused.

I realized that I hadn’t told him about Dorothy at all, and that he wouldn’t have a clue who she was if I were to say her name aloud now. Quickly, I pushed myself out of my chair and rushed to Madam Pince’s desk.

She peered up at me, hesitant. She was used to my face being flanked by three trouble-making boys, who were often causing a ruckus in her library.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you what books that girl just checked out?” I asked.

Madam Pince raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, “I beg your pardon?”

“I know it’s an odd request, but I’m assisting Professor Hagrid this year and she had seemed particularly keen on his class,” I said and felt a bit of confidence as her face warmed at the mention of Hagrid’s name. “He’s looking for students to mentor next year.”

Madam Pince pressed her lips together, shooting me a disapproving glare, but she immediately went to scan her records anyway. She clicked her tongue, nodding as her finger traced the name of the texts.

“ _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander, The Niffler Biology by Atticus Motholon, Creature Care and How to Avoid Death by Francine Sweets, The Beasts of England by Ernie Erkle,”_ Madam Pince listed them off, and then her eyes fluttered back up to mine. “That’s it for any relevant to Care of Magical Creatures, Ms. Aurora.”

I smiled, excitedly drumming my fingers on her desk, “Great. Thank you, Madam Pince. You are a gem.”

She tried not to smile at my token of appreciation, but I saw her lips curl upward.

I rushed back to Lee, who was now eager to hear what I had been going on about, and I filled him in about the third-year girl who I was hopeful would take my place. She _had_ checked out four books on the subject, and that was a mighty heavy haul on top of third-year course work.

“A protégé, as they say,” Lee smiled with a nod of understanding. “Find me a mini Quidditch announcer extraordinaire while you’re at it. I want one too.”

~*~

Sunday came, and I sped down to breakfast before going down to Hagrid’s. There was no morning that could outshine this one, but waiting for the owls seemed to take centuries. I sat with Lee, and could tell as I stabbed my porridge with a spoon and he numbly ate his toast that we were both anxiously awaiting our mail delivery.

When the owls finally arrived, one of the school’s owls dropped a nice stack of mail next to my porridge, and I couldn’t help but toss my dishes to the side and immediately rip into them.

Lee had a few himself, which he seemed over eager to dig into as well.

I opened the first letter from my parents. It was the usual content of one of their letters, maybe a little sappier since I had spent much less time at home this year. They missed me, they hoped I’d come home soon, and they wanted to know if I was coming home for the Christmas break.

I felt my heart ache a bit, realizing that I hadn’t even considered going home. My full intent was to return to Fred and make up for the time I’d been away.

As I folded up the letter, I reminded myself to try and make both happen at the end of this term.

The next letter was from George. He asked how school was going, told me to make sure they were included on any D.A. information that was necessary and important, and told me that the shop was so busy that they were running out of products faster than they were producing them.

I felt warm and fuzzy reading his words, basking in his success.

I had saved Fred’s for last, because I needed to soak in his words more than anybody else’s.

_Aylia,_

_I hate to tell you, darling, but you were always out of place in Slytherin. Don’t worry about fitting in with that lot, focus on school and know that you always have a place in the house we made for ourselves at Hogwarts, with the four of us._

_I can’t believe you’re teaching classes. My lady, a professor? Seems mighty ironic in a way._

_I’m happy you will be working with the fairies again this year. I know how much it means to you. All of this seems to make the return worth it, doesn’t it? Try to focus on that rather than everything else. You’re back there for a reason._

_The shop is doing great, though the customer’s don’t seem quite as happy being rung up by me and Georgie’s ugly mugs. I reckon sales will plummet until you return. We might even go bankrupt._

_As for Malfoy… just stay away from that git. I know he did a nice thing for you by helping you get back in Hogwarts, but things have changed since then. I’m not there to protect you, so protect yourself, alright? I know you can, I just don’t like the thought of Lucius’ son sleeping just a room away from you._

_Lastly, don’t be cross, but I have bought you a present to celebrate your last term. It’s at Hagrid’s hut. Since you’ll get this letter on Sunday, I assume you’re on your way down there. He’s looking after it until you arrive._

_I can’t wait to hear from you again. Let’s expedite this process, yeah?_

_I reckon I love you a bit too, Aurora._

_Freddie._

I excitedly showed Lee the letter, who scrambled and gathered his letters as I reached toward him.

I raised an eyebrow at his panic, wondering what on earth could have been sent to him that he was trying to hide. We didn’t really _do_ secrets in this friendship.

He seemed incredibly flustered, desperate to move on as he tore my letter from my hands and swallowed hard- wide-eyed as his eyes skimmed the contents. I watched him carefully, wanting to know more than ever what he had held in his hands just moments before, but I didn’t push him.

I had gotten a few embarrassing letters from my parents before too, and I’d be pretty cranky if any of them pried into my life that way.

Lee smiled lightly as he finished, and gave a small shrug, “Yeah, I already know what it is.”

I stared at him, “What?”

He nodded with a small laugh, “He was talking about it at the end of summer. He was quite indecisive about it though- but he was set on getting it for you. I’ll see you after your morning at Hagrid’s. I can’t wait to hear about it.”

Lee scooped up his letters then and rushed away from the table, leaving me staring after him- wondering what the bloody hell had gotten into him since last night.

I couldn’t contain my excitement as I gathered my own letters and shoved them into my bag. I rushed down to Hagrid’s hut, hoping to Merlin that whatever Fred had purchased for me was _not_ expensive, because he knew how I felt about him spending his newfound money on me when his business was just getting off the ground.

Hagrid was awake already; he had placed the fairies’ food in containers on the table that he had set up outside. I tossed my bag next to the steps and knocked quietly on the door, trying not to slam my fist against it with my eagerness and scare Fang.

I heard a ruffle of noises inside, including Hagrid’s bellows and Fang’s loud barks. Hagrid’s eyes peered through the small glass window above the door at me. He smiled, pulling the door open just a crack to peer out at me with one, dark eye.

“Well, hullo Aylia. Here to feed the fairies?” he asked cheekily.

I grinned up at him, “I hear there is a gift here for me?”

“You’re absolutely righ’ about ‘dah,” he said with a nod, he peered back into his hut and then back to me again. “Alright, but no screamin’ okay? I just got it quiet in here.”

He opened the door, but I nearly pushed it open as I stormed in. I scanned around the room, looking for a box, or ribbon, or anything to signal that it was my gift. Hagrid smiled and stepped out of the way, where a white cage sat upon his kitchen table, and a white and tan Barn Owl sat on it’s perch, staring at me.

I froze and Hagrid tensed beside me.

“No screamin!” He reminded me quietly. “You’ll scare ‘im.”

I stared at the beautiful creature, with it’s heart shaped face and long, steep beak. He cocked his head as he looked at me, shaking out his beautiful patterned feathers. I had never owned an owl, despite longing for one since my first year, because they were extremely expensive and it just wasn’t in my parent’s budget.

I couldn’t move as the owl and I stared at each other. Hagrid seemed unsure if he should push me, or let me go through this wave of shock on my own.

“That’s an owl,” I said stupidly.

Hagrid chuckled under his breath, “A beautiful one too. That Weasley boy did good.”

I nodded numbly, finally walking toward the table. I hopped on one of the seats, leaning in toward the white bars of the cage. The owl turned, sizing me up, his eyes seemed to burn into my soul in a way that no human could ever manage.

“There’s a letter there for ‘ya,” Hagrid said, pointing under the cage. “I’ll be outside.”

He nodded politely and left the hut. I was still staring at the beautiful bird for a few moments before I even reached for the letter. My heart was frozen in place, as though it couldn’t tell if this was real or not either. This was an absolute dream, something I could have never imagined happening to me until I had a bit of money for myself.

I opened the letter and saw Fred’s handwriting:

_Aylia._

_You can’t be mad because I know you love him, and he’s cute and all that. I hope I made the right choice; I couldn’t decide between him or an Elf Owl, but he seemed to look into my eyes the way that you do sometimes._

_He’s a boy, name him what you will. Let me know what you decide._

_I don’t enjoy receiving your letters so late, especially with what’s going on right now. I also don’t like the thought of a school owl delivering your mail and somebody else’s dirty paws reading letters intended for you._

_This way, your messages should be safe, and they should get to me quicker and mine back to you. I reckon it’ll feel like less distance between us that way._

_I hope you love him. Happy last term of school. I’m always proud of you, darling, remember that._

_Love,_

_Freddie (and the owl with no name)._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi readers,
> 
> I hope you're enjoying the story so far.
> 
> Let me know what you think. Draco content coming up!!


	5. The Potions Professor

I named the owl Figment. We bonded instantly. Hagrid understood that our fairy time was going to be greatly imposed upon by my new owl. We let Figment out, and he stretched his wings and fluttered around us, but he seemed particularly attached to me already.

The thought of bringing him to the owlery made my heart hurt. I wanted him beside me at all times, where I could stare at him or scratch his head. He particularly liked his beak stroked. He’d shut his eyes and lean into my touch and my heart would absolutely explode. I loved him so incredibly much already.

I forced Lee to sit up with me and spend time with him. He seemed particularly fond of Figment’s striking looks as well. I ensured he knew that he could use Figment at any point in time as well, because the thought of getting mail earlier than Sundays was far too appealing to keep the luxury for myself alone.

I had teared up leaving Figment amongst the owls. He seemed to be fine sitting with the other birds but wasn’t necessarily social like I spotted Hedwig being. It made me love him that much more. I just hoped he wasn’t missing me as much as I was missing him as I climbed down the steps from the owlery.

I walked Lee to the Gryffindor common room nearing curfew. He seemed antsy to return to his dorm, like his mind was elsewhere, and I couldn’t help but think about the mail he had received earlier and if he was desperate to utilize Figment as quickly as he could.

I headed back to the dungeons; my heart ready to burst with happiness. I couldn’t wait to write to Fred. I wished, for a painful moment, that I had forced him to learn how to use a muggle telephone so I could call him and tell him how much I loved both him and Figment.

If I had any doubt that I wasn’t supposed to be here this year, it had vanished.

I pushed open the door to the dungeons and almost collided with a tall, lean frame, dressed head to toe in black.

Draco stepped back, startled, his brow creasing immediately when he realized it was me in front of him.

I froze too, unprepared to be face-to-face with him so soon after our moment in the corridor. Our eyes burned into each other, no words passing between the pair of us.

I narrowed my eyes, “Nearly curfew, Malfoy, where are you heading?”

“Not any concern of yours,” he snapped, pressing his lips together tightly. Despite the coldness he was desperate to display, I could see that he was wishing this moment would pass.

“Right,” I said, and Fred’s words flickered in my brain- reminding me to control my anger. Every ounce of me wanted to choke Draco and berate him for his father’s involvement in Sirius’ murder. “Fancy a discussion about what happened at the Ministry last term?”

Draco’s eyes flashed with something- anger? Regret? Embarrassment?

“Let me by, Aurora,” he seethed, but he could no longer meet my eyes. “I don’t fancy any discussions with you at all.”

“Coward,” I muttered, but I stepped aside and let him go.

He threw open the common room door so violently that it slammed against the wall with a deafening smack. I stood there for a moment, staring at fire where we had spent nights talking like old friends, and prayed for the will to get over this mounting rage that I felt each time I saw him.

It was the only thing that could ruin this term, that could ensure I didn’t pass with flying colors and become a creature healer. Draco’s family’s involvement in what happened in the ministry filled me with a fury unmatched by anything that had ever happened in my life.

How could Dumbledore allow the son of a bloody death eater to roam around the castle like a regular student?

Now he was sneaking out after curfew, unable to meet my eyes. He seemed as uninterested in me as I was in him. I had barely seen him for meals in the Great Hall, and I hadn’t spotted him in the common room once so far. He always seemed to be just aimlessly roaming the halls like a ghost.

I thought about turning around and following him. There was something off about him, and I wanted to know what. Plus, I _needed_ to know if he’d be aware of the Ministry event, or even the attack on Arthur.

A shudder ran through me.

The thought of his father being responsible for _any_ part of hurting Mr. Weasley made me feel physically ill. I know it hadn’t been Draco directly, but I felt betrayed nonetheless. We had grown close enough last year, enough to confide in each other about certain things, close enough to crave each other when we were hurting- if it had been his father who was responsible for that moment of pain, I think I would lose it.

I sucked in a breath and decided not to do anything rash. There would be time to figure out what Draco was doing.

I pulled out a chair at one of the tables and began to write to Fred. It was hard not to rant and complain about Malfoy, my quill wanted to burn a hole in the parchment to fill him in, but there was a fine line that I could walk after Fred asked me to steer clear of him.

Fred didn’t know the intricate details of our ‘friendship,’ which was my fault entirely, but he _was_ probably right that it was safer to avoid him.

~*~

The next morning, I was desperate to go and see Figment, but classes prevented me from doing so. I sat in Potions, listening to Slughorn drone on about his favorite students from the past- those who showed real potential in his classroom and who went on to be world renowned witches and wizards.

I was _sure_ he’d mentioned a Quidditch player that Lee adored.

His eyes locked on me for a moment, likely expecting an eighth year to show the most potential.

I stared back at him, deadpanned. He was going to be very disappointed.

“Today, we will be discussing Wolfsbane Potion,” Slughorn announced, clasping his hands together.

I perked up. Snape hadn’t taught us that last year. He had been extremely picky about which potions he refused to teach students, and Wolfsbane was one of them.

“It is extremely tricky to brew,” Slughorn continued, pacing in front of his own desk. He met my eyes again with a small smile. “Though I’m sure you will surprise me. Remember to be quite careful, if you improperly handle the Myrrh, you can burn straight through your skin to your bone or get the smoke your eyes, and you can go blind.”

The seventh years around me seemed weary, but I was very intrigued. Werewolves were people, yes, but they were also part creature. Knowing how to brew Wolfsbane, especially when being taught by somebody as profound in Potions as Slughorn, was a privilege even for me, somebody terrible at the subject.

I craned my neck over the shoulder of Alaina Nots, who seemed to be recoiling away from the ingredients as Slughorn laid them out on the table in front of him. There were limited ingredients, but Hermione had told me time and time again that this potion was one of the trickiest, and some of the ingredients were illegal if misused.

“Now,” Slughorn said, as he twirled his wand and a fire ignited under his cauldron. “In order to brew this potion, you must receive a sanction from the ministry. Before term, I ensured I’d receive this sanction, but there are rules you all must follow if we wish to obey the law.”

I leaned forward even further, hanging on to his every word. It may have been my desire to bend the rules or live amongst some chaos, missing my old life at Hogwarts with Fred and George, but I was suddenly desperate to learn how to brew this almost-illegal concoction.

Something in me also thought about the future. Knowing how to brew Wolfsbane, even if done illegally, seemed like it might be a very critical skill to have as the Dark Lord returned to power.

Fernir Greyback had escaped from Azkaban last year, and he was still on the run. He had been one of the Death Eaters at the ministry when Sirius had been murdered. If he stared attacking people at the height of Voldemort’s power- this potion might be crucial in providing aid. Plus, there were rumors that he was keen on turning children. That made this potion even more critical.

Slughorn’s eyes slid to me again, “I will show you today, and we will start your own preparations next class.”

Before he could say another word, I ripped my parchment and quill out of my bag and dipped my quill in the inkwell. A seventh-year girl, with dark curly hair and hazel eyes was seated beside me. She raised an eyebrow at my eagerness.

I ignored her, but watched as she reached into her own bag and pulled out a sheet of parchment. As Slughorn began to recite what he was doing in detail, and showed us the ingredients at a slow pace, the pair of us sketched notes on our parchment and in the margins of our textbook.

The textbook showed us the proportions and the instructions, but there was something about Slughorn’s detail that gave us far more information that we’d ever get from the text. The girl and I worked together, passing our parchment across the table every few minutes if one of us missed a crucial point.

I reckoned as I watched her jot down my note about the Giant Moonwort and how to add it to the potion correctly, that I had made a new friend of sorts.

_Fred,_

_Words cannot describe how much I love him. I thought I was dreaming for a moment, and Hagrid had been sure I was going to have a meltdown. He is so beautiful. I fell in love the moment his eyes met mine. I will never be able to thank you for this. Words will never convey how I feel when I am with him._

_He is called Figment. You’ll see him soon, with this letter. We’ve connected so much already. He’ll just sit on my arm or lap and I’ll give him scratches. I swear, Freddie, I have never felt so connected to something in my life. It’s like he understands me. It breaks my heart to bring him to the owlery. He doesn’t much like hanging out with all of the other birds._

_I feel rather cooped up here, stuck with seventh year students in every class. I don’t see Lee often during school hours and its quite rubbish. We’ll be allowed to go to Hogsmeade in a few weekends. Would you and George be able to meet us? I know you’re quite busy at the shop, but I think it’d be nice to have a round with the four of us again._

_Thank you for Figment, Freddie. You’ve made me melt._

_All my love,_

_Aylia._


	6. The Room of Requirement

The next evening, Lee and I were relaxing in the Gryffindor common room, talking about the density of some of the seventh years in our classes over biscuits and tea. I made sure to tell him about the potential of meeting Fred and George in Hogsmeade once we were permitted to go. That seemed to brighten his day after talking about the two seventh-year Slytherin boys who kept calling him the ‘Weasley Wanker’ in his Charms class.

Banter was oddly not as fun when we were on our own.

It was nearing nine in the evening when Harry trudged through the portrait hole with a swagger in his step, Ron and Hermione closely in tow. Harry was beaming from ear to ear as he listened to Ron, but Hermione looked rather pressed, rolling her eyes while she glared ahead.

“Potter, Potter, there’s no one hotter,” Lee sang out once they realized we were sitting on the plush couch. I felt like I’d heard Peeves chant that one once or twice.

I waved as I reached for my tea on the table.

Harry grinned, glancing over his shoulder at Ron, who smiled even wider as Hermione’s scowl deepened. The three of them took a seat on the free couch across from us. Hermione slowly sat at the very end of the cushion, looking rather hesitant.

Harry’s excitement was almost palpable now.

“What on earth are you so chuffed about?” I asked, raising my brows.

As I sipped my peppermint tea, overloaded with honey, Harry pulled a small jar out of his pocket and held it up in front of him. The liquid inside of vial seemed to glisten and slow against the light from the fire, and although I had absolutely no idea what it was, my eyes widened as I slowly lowered my teacup back to my lap.

Lee leaned forward quickly, squinting. “What the bloody hell is that?”

Ron smacked Harry on the back, proudly.

“Go on mate, tell them.”

Harry slipped the jar back into his palm and gingerly dropped it back into his pocket.

“Felix Felicis,” Hermione said snidely, crossing her arms in front of herself.

My eyes widened even further, my gaze sliding to a now _incredibly_ proud Harry.

“Liquid luck?” I asked quietly- entranced.

Harry nodded once, “I won it in Potions today. I brewed the best Amortentia potion in the class.”

Ron grinned as Hermione let out a loud, disapproving grunt. She rolled her eyes, turning her body away from her two best friends, leaning toward the arm of the couch as she glared into the fire.

I reckoned she had a _lot_ more that she wanted to say, but was choosing to bite her tongue.

“Love potion?” Lee asked, nodding- even he was impressed.

“Everyone was fighting for it, but Harry’s grown exceptionally skilled in the art of Potion making this year,” Ron chuckled, and Harry’s confidence finally seemed to waver.

That was it. Hermione let out a disgruntled noise and snatched her wand off of the table. She said something quickly, a goodbye of sorts, and stormed away into the dormitories.

“Ignore her. Just jealous,” Ron waved it off, like it was nothing but Hermione overreacting to something again.

I eyed him carefully, wondering what information he was holding back. Although I didn’t know Hermione as well as he did, I knew her well enough- and she rarely overreacted when he thought she did, which was _always._

“You? Potions?” Lee asked. “Always thought you were a Dark Arts guy, if I’m honest.”

“Well, I am,” Harry admitted coolly. “I’ve just gotten a bit better without Snape breathing down my neck.”

Lee seemed to think this was a perfectly reasonable response, but I could sense there was something that we were missing. I recalled many conversations when my friends would dance around specifics infront of others, the little signals we’d give off- like Fred and George’s quick glances and Lee’s inability to hide his grin, so it instead looked like he was trying not to fart.

Ron was practically vibrating in his seat, near-giggles, and Harry couldn’t quite meet our eyes any longer.

I took another sip of tea, muffling my curiosity.

“So, the love potion?” Lee asked, clearly not sensing anything odd between the pair of them. “Save any? Use any?”

Harry shook his head quickly.

“I probably should have,” Ron admitted as he leaned back against the couch cushions. “You should have seen how mad the girls were in class, shouting things they were smelling out like a shopping list- _lilacs! Toothpaste! No, I smell broom polish!_ It was a riot.”

“Even Malfoy was on one,” Harry said with a laugh.

Ron nodded eagerly, “Don’t think he knew we could hear him breathing down Goyle’s neck either.”

“What did he say again? Pine?” Harry asked, scrunching up his nose.

“Yeah, that’s right. He tried to say he smelled nothing, of course- but Slughorn threatened to give him a zero. Pine, Autumn, and bonfire, I think-is he in love with a bloody tree?” He asked.

The three of them burst into a rumble of laughter. Even Lee, who owed Malfoy some decency for getting us back into school, seemed to be on board with forgetting about that favor at all in light of recent events.

“What did you smell?” I asked, dipping a biscuit into my lukewarm tea.

Harry and Ron’s eyes fluttered to mine. The laughter ceased almost immediately. They averted their gaze bashfully.

I hadn’t realized it had been such a personal question, but as Ron’s cheeks reddened, I knew I had overstepped. I could imagine my own Amortentia potion, it’d probably smell like the forest, and fireworks and cinnamon like Freddie. What was so deeply personal about a scent of a potion?

“Harry’s smelled like the golden snitch,” Lee said, pretending like he was thinking hard as he scratched his chin. “And Ron’s smelled like the leather of a Keeper’s helmet.”

The boys seemed to relax, nodding along with Lee’s guesses, but I couldn’t help but wonder _why_ they were so nervous to share what their potion would have smelled like.

If Ron smelled a turkey feast, I wouldn’t be able to peg ten girls who loved turkey as his type tomorrow morning? If Harry smelled broom polish, I’d just assumed he had grown to love that scent with Quidditch.

They had acted as though I had requested to see them naked. I didn’t need to know the details of what Harry had smelled to tell you he had a thing for Ginny Weasley.

“So, what are you planning on doing with the liquid luck?” I asked, avoiding the love potion topic all together.

Harry pondered for a moment, but again just shrugged. I was about to suggest he save it indefinitely, until he wound up in the presence of evil yet again- but I kept my opinion to myself. It was _his_ prize, and I was sure he had already thought about the many scenarios in which the potion would come in handy. Plus, he likely had already heard it all from Ron and Hermione.

I wondered, more selfishly, if Slughorn would gift another capsule of liquid luck to the seventh year who brewed the best Wolfsbane. I would study every minute that was possible if he were to do so. Having liquid luck on hand would be extremely useful.

As curfew neared, I slipped out of the portrait hole. It was liberating, sneaking in and out of common rooms without worrying about Umbridge. Breaking the rules felt a lot less risky with her gone.

I took a detour on my way back to the dungeons, wanting to avoid my house mates until the last possible minute. I spent that time thinking about what I would do with a bit of Felix Felicis. I’d likely wind up using it soon, as the world went to bits around us, but I also felt as though I’d just end up handing it off to someone in deeper trouble than me- Harry, Fred, or perhaps someone from the Order.

I couldn’t think of a situation where I’d truly need it enough to feel comfortable wasting it.

I had just turned on to the seventh floor of the dimly lit castle when I spotted a lean boy in a black outfit. He was sneaking out of a doorway that was shrinking behind him as he left it, looking like someone who did not want to be spotted.

I froze, my eyes widening.

‘Hey!” I screamed before I could think twice.

Draco spun around quickly; his wand drawn. He levelled it at my face.

Without thinking, I pulled out my own wand and stormed toward him.

I was fuming.

How _dare_ he use the D.A.’s room for _whatever_ troubling stuff he was doing in his spare time. Draco didn’t budge as I walked right up to him, and he didn’t hex me either- he just swallowed hard as I stopped, his eyes cold.

“What were you doing in there?” I spat as we stood face-to-face.

If a professor came around the corner now, there would be no explaining this. We were both clearly ready to use magic against each other if we needed to, and this was anything but harmless. Our wands were pointed at each other’s chest with meaning, unwavering.

Draco glared at me, “Mind your business, Aurora.”

“ _My business?”_ I seethed, taking another step forward. “It’s my bloody business when your family is killing mine and you’re sneaking around in the Room of Requirement- where we used to practice to protect ourselves from _you_.”

Draco pushed out his jaw. He looked me up and down, as though wondering if the fight was worth it. He seemed sullen, defeated. There was no fight left in him to even try.

“ _Your_ family?” he spat, letting out a huff of a breath. “Your family? _Muggles?_ Or do you really consider yourself to be blood-tied with _pure-blood_ wizarding families?”

My rage peaked then. I reached forward, balling my fist in the fabric of his shirt. I pulled him to me, not caring if he decided to use his wand. I dragged him toward the wall. I had to figure out what he was doing behind that the door. The Room of Requirement slowly came back into view again as I dragged him toward it- giving us access back inside.

It was only then, as the door came into view, that Draco put up a fight. He pulled back roughly, trying to push his wand to my abdomen, but I used my free hand to smack it out of his hand as I thrust open the door.

I pulled him inside, slamming the door shut behind us with a kick from my boot.

It wasn’t the practice room that we had used for Dumbledore’s Army any longer. It was a large, cluttered room, full of odd objects and a variety of furniture. It looked like a Hogwarts storage room, where all of the old and unused wizarding material would come to rest once it’s time had ended.

I looked around slowly as Draco freed himself from my grasp, reaching for his wand.

I hadn’t even realized that he had pointed it at me again, and that his cold and composed stature had broken. He looked panicked, his arm trembling as he nervously watched me examine the room.

I slowly looked back to him, “ _This_ is where you’ve been wasting all of your time?”

“Aylia,” he said quietly, his face pleading with me. “I said mind your own business _. Please.”_

I stared at him. I had been right. He was nervous. Whatever he was doing, he was doing it in this room. There was something buried among this clutter that he was focused on this year, but what? And why?

Wordlessly, I pushed passed him and rushed through the small walkways of space made between the aisles of clutter. I glanced in every direction, pushing things out of the way as quickly as possible, as though I’d know what he was fixated on when I came across it.

I don’t know why I hadn’t been expecting it, because I had _seen_ the look in his eyes just moments ago, but as the curse from his wand hit my back and I soared forward into an old chest of drawers and fell to the floor- I was shocked that he had _actually_ tried to hurt me.

Maybe it was because he had been so tender with me in moments, so raw and open, that I truly hadn’t expected him to hex me as though I were his enemy. But as my face connected with the edge of the dresser and I landed on my arm in a painful heap, I realized that I did not know him in the slightest. Not the real him.

I groaned in pain, peering up at him.

Draco was standing over me, his face full of anger. His arm shook as he pointed his wand at my crumbled body.

“While my back was turned?” I coughed, tasting blood. I rolled slowly onto my knees. “Pathetic.”

He stepped back as I hobbled to my feet, clutching my own wand.

“I asked you not to prod,” his voice was shaky, but angry. “Will you listen to me for once? _Please?”_

I wiped the blood off of my nose with the sleeve of my jumper. I hadn’t listened to him in the one hundred previous times that he had asked me to- so why would I start now?

I was onto him. I was close and I knew it. Draco was not spending time in the common room, playing Quidditch, or with his friends anymore. He was spending _hours_ wandering the castle instead. He had been in here, constantly, but for _what?_

I glanced around again, desperate to catch a glimpse of something he had planted in a corner somewhere, but I wasn’t given the chance. As soon as I looked to the left, I was seized by my robes and thrown against the dresser again.

My vision blurred.

Malfoy held me against the dresser, his free hand let go of my robes and wrapped around my throat.

“ _You’re going to make me hurt you,”_ he whispered, his hand tightening around my neck.

I stared at him, sucking in a breath.

He had been exactly who I believed he was for the past six years. He was a pathetic, little boy with his father’s morals and beliefs shoved so far down his throat that he’d wrap his hands around mine to protect them.

I glared at him, struggling to speak, “Why did you even ask Dumbledore to let me back in?”

He blinked, taken back by the question. His grip on my throat loosened a little, allowing me to take a greedy inhale of air.

Draco’s steel eyes watched me carefully, “That’s beside the point.”

“Is it?” I whispered. “You brought me back here just to strangle me in the Room of Requirement?”

His grip tightened again, and he thrust me against the chest of drawers again. I winced in pain, reaching up to clutch his forearm to try and fight for more oxygen. He leaned down, his face dangerously close to mine, ignoring the prying of my fingernails against his skin.

“It’s a different time, Aurora,” he said bitterly. “Just say thank you and leave me the hell alone.”

“ _Thank you?”_ I seethed, gasping as he pressed forward even harder. “Your father killed Sirius and you expect me to be _grateful?”_

Draco’s lips curled upward, a sneer on his face. “He did _not.”_

 _“_ He was there!” I croaked, and I tried to lift my knee to kick him in the groin or shins, but he had me pressed down too tightly to move. I was beginning to see spots, my vision blurring. Maybe Malfoy would end up murdering me in a muggle-fashion. Wouldn’t that be ironic?

“This has nothing to do with Black,” Draco muttered, but his grip loosened, and I felt his thumb brush against my pulse gently. I almost shut my eyes at the comfort it brought after his roughness, “This is the last time I’ll tell you to leave this alone, Aurora.”

I sucked in a breath again, shutting my eyes as my mind struggled to clear itself, flooding it with oxygen. I leaned against the chest of drawers, sure that there would be marks on my neck by tomorrow, his finger prints marked clearly on my skin.

“We were friends,” I whispered.

His eyes flashed with an emotion I didn’t recognize, but he turned his head and dropped his hand.

I had spent the better part of the last year conflicted about my relationship with Draco, but judging by the betrayal I had felt from his hex and his hand on my throat, I was hurt that he would have done this to me. Perhaps I _had_ considered us friends, in the back of my mind.

“Yeah, well,” he cleared his throat, still unable to meet my eyes. He scratched his jaw, which was set tightly. “Things have changed, haven’t they? Not really keen on being your friend anymore, Aurora.”

I stared at him, willing him to look at me, because I didn’t quite believe that. He had fought _all year_ to be my friend, to kiss me in those hidden moments, he had loathed the idea of Fred and I being together. What could have changed to have him abandon all of those feelings and have him wrap his fingers around my throat, which he had once touched so gently.

I reached up to my neck absent-mindedly, feeling the sting of his grip still lingering.

He swallowed hard as I did so, still staring out toward the clutter beside us.

“Get out of here,” he demanded, and though I wanted to hex him- I didn’t have the will to in the moment. “And you can be certain I’m instilling security measures on this room so don’t try sneaking back here later.”

I needed time to think, and I couldn’t do it here with Draco breathing down my neck- watching my every move with the intention to hurt me if I got too close. I’d have to leave and try to come back later, hoping the room with cooperate with me if I needed the room to be the _exact_ same when I returned.

I stood upright, adjusting my robes. Draco wouldn’t meet my eyes, which was not surprising. Cowards didn’t really like owning up to their own behavior, did they?

I pushed forward, roughly shoving Draco with my shoulder as I barreled past him. I refused to look back as I stormed out of the Room of Requirement, though I had developed a new fear of having my back turned in front Draco Malfoy.

_Aylia,_

_I knew you’d love him. He’s quite a happy chap, isn’t he? He showed up here and made his way inside, sitting on Wacky’s perch with him like he lives here. He demanded scratches from both George and I for about an hour. An owl is and owl, but Figment **is** pretty handsome._

_I’m sure George and I could make it to Hogsmeade. We did hire a storefront employee who is working full-time hours. I’m sure he could watch the shop for a few hours while we came for a visit. I cannot make any promises at this point, as Diagon Alley is becoming more of a dangerous place than it has been in the past. Not too sure if leaving one bloke up front is the safest for the shop._

_Just let me know when, and I’ll see what I can do._

_I miss you here on these nights, where I’m sitting at the table, scrawling a letter in the quiet to send off to you at school. I don’t find comfort in quiet like I thought I would, having a place of my own. I’m counting down the days until I’m waking up next to you again._

_Send me your lips in your next letter. I miss those too._

_Yours, yours, yours._

_Fred._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I hope you enjoy
> 
> Please tell me what you think in the comments!
> 
> Thank you!


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